


problematic tommy smutshots

by Anonymous



Series: raine’s anon-fics. [3]
Category: no - Fandom
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Consensual Underage Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, bottom t0mmy only please 👍, oneshot book
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: a book of problematic tommy oneshots. don't like, don't read.requests are always open!! :)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude/TommyInnit, Technoblade/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo/TommyInnit, TommyInnit/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot/Technoblade/TommyInnit/Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot/TommyInnit
Series: raine’s anon-fics. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156892
Comments: 73
Kudos: 663
Collections: Anonymous





	1. requests

i'm sick of trying to think up creative titles for porn and so i decided to make a oneshot book bc it just feels easier to manage

i'm also opening requests for me to write as while i will be doing my own ideas, i figured it would be nice for people who aren't writing to get what they want in a fic

**ships i will do:**

  * wilbur/tommy
  * techno/tommy
  * phil/tommy
  * sbi/tommy
  * ranboo/tommy
  * dream/tommy
  * sam/tommy
  * tubbo/tommy
  * schlatt/tommy



**what i will write:**

  * nearly anything lol
  * dub-con and non-con are both fine to request
  * incest is fine if you want sbi as a family 
  * can be fluffy or angsty, please go into some detail regarding the plot and kinks you'd like to see



**what i won't do:**

  * while i'll do moderate piss kink, drinking it is just beyond my comfort zone sorry
  * scat or vomit
  * necrophilia 
  * vore
  * extreme violence/gore
  * anything extremely underage. tommy will be 16+ in all of these
  * i'll add more to this list if anything else ends up making me uncomfortable 




	2. wilbur/tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve decided to attempt to clear out my wips folder that’s filled with fics that i never ended up finishing. there’s one other fic that’s near completion that i’ll probably end up posting on it’s own because of how long it is. when i’m done with that, i’ll be starting on requests!
> 
> // consensual sex, minor/adult, anal sex, non-consensual voyuerism?? (wilbur responds to a phone call during sex)

tommy isn’t quite sure when he got so addicted to the touch of a man eight years older than him.

maybe it was when, within an hour of arriving in brighton, wilbur had slammed him up against his front door and fucked him raw and fast, even though his dad’s car had yet to drive off and tommy couldn’t do much to stop the door from rattling beneath his fingertips with each wild thrust.

perhaps it was when they had re-watched hamilton together and wilbur had kept him pinned to his lap, the tip of his hard cock pressed incessantly to his prostate and two long fingers rubbing at his tongue, not letting up until tommy was cumming dry and sobbing into his shoulder.

tommy thinks, mind clouded in a pleasure-induced haze, that wilbur might have conditioned him into the perfect little toy, always ready to be played with. tommy can’t find it in himself to mind all that much, not when the thought of warming wilbur’s length makes his brain tingle. 

wilbur has him spread over the edge of his bed, sheets coming off the corners with the force that wilbur had used to keep tommy constantly begging for more, the fabric beneath tommy’s hips already stained with sweat and cum. 

the man towers over him, large hand curled under both of his knees to keep his knobbly legs to one side, stopping them from getting in the way of the other hand that nudges the head of his dick against the curve of tommy's ass.

tommy fidgets at the thought of what’s to come, whimpering when wilbur casts him a knowing grin. even just the small noise makes his throat burn in dull pain. his voice hasn’t been quite right since wilbur choked him on his cock last night.

the noise melts into a pleased hum, tumbling from lips swollen from wilbur’s biting kisses, when he feels himself be filled once more. wilbur slides back into his gaping hole, sensitive walls quivering around the intrusion as a sloppy noise echoes through tommy’s ears.

“does this feel good, toms?” wilbur purrs as he sets a steady pace, squelching noises filling the air. tommy nods frantically, chewing on the sleeve of the sweater he stole from wilbur’s closet when his last t-shirt got ruined after wilbur got a little too rough. “is something wrong, sweetheart? you’re usually so responsive, so bratty. can you not talk?”

tommy tries to form words, but his tongue can’t manage to curl around the sentences properly and the noises instead sound a lot more like babbled nonsense. he pauses, hips twitching, trying to ignore the heat spreading across his tummy, letting wilbur’s touch guide him back down to earth. “not- not ‘cause i don’ want to. ‘m head’s all fuzzy and shit.”

“oh, baby. did i really fuck your brains out?” he definitely did, not that tommy’s faltering pride will let him admit it just yet. his vision blurs as he attempts to focus and it briefly crosses his mind that they were meant to stream at some point, but the computer screen is black and wilbur seems much more occupied on something else, so tommy doesn’t bother mentioning it.

deciding replying would take up too much energy, he reaches his arms up into the air, oversized sleeves falling down to his elbows, making childish grabby hands as an embarrassed flush rises over his cheeks. but it’s utterly worth it when wilbur chuckles and leans down to press kisses all over his face.

wilbur releases his knees and tommy’s long legs naturally fall around his hips, the older man’s palms coming to slide under his back and lift him slightly in the air. tommy would flail if he had any real control over his limbs, but it’s not long before wilbur is settled against the headboard and tommy is splayed in his lap.

a little broken noise escapes tommy when the new position starts to make even more cum leak from between his legs, dripping down onto wilbur’s still clothed thigh. tommy is restless when he’s not full and wilbur knows how to use that to his advantage, thrusting up in between tommy’s ass cheeks, tip catching at his needy hole.

wilbur’s hands grip around his skinny waist, helping him sink down onto his cock, the push so slow that it has tommy whining in impatience. “go on then, love,” wilbur murmurs, the smirk on his lips never-fading as his touch leaves tommy’s skin and he relaxes back, the perfect picture of nonchalance. “if you want more of my cum so badly, work for it.”

tommy would call him a prick if it wasn’t for the sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine, rendering him speechless as he rolls his hips ever so slightly, the need to cum overwhelming the urge to devolve into one of his childish screaming matches. 

resting his hands on wilbur’s chest, careful of the almost comforting ache that spreads across his thighs, tommy tries to bounce up and down, the kind of quick and desperate movements he had managed as an inexperienced boy who had just landed on wilbur’s doorstep.

but he falters instead, legs shaking under the strain as he stills, arms still fruitlessly trying to push himself up as he whines and turns red under wilbur’s delighted gaze. the man keeps a hand steady over tommy’s back, leaning down to teasingly nip at the already bruised skin of his pale neck.

“you’re such a pillow princess,” wilbur laughs into his shoulder. he sounds so bloody amused, the bastard, and tommy would curse him out if not for the stretch that turns him soft and pliable. “who would believe it? always shouting tommyinnit, fucked into the perfect cocksleeve who can’t even get himself off properly without my help.”

tommy opens his mouth to half-heartedly defend himself, but he’s cut off by a shrill ringing noise and the screen of wilbur’s phone resting on the other side of the bed lights up. he expects wilbur to just ignore it, but then he’s been jostled around, his dick accidentally trapped between their chests as he squirms. 

he tries not to let horror sink into his gaze when wilbur accepts the call, one of his soft eyes winking before he’s distracted by whoever is on the other end of the line. “phil?” wilbur questions, somehow masterfully able to cover up the raspy quality to his voice. “is something wrong?”

“ah, the stream,” wilbur mutters, tone never wavering, even when tommy starts unconsciously grinding down onto his lap. he just grabs the boy by his hip, slowing him to a stop, silently cooing as he rubs away the childish tears that begin to form in the corner of tommy’s eyes from being denied any sort of release. “tommy was feeling a little sick. don’t worry, it’s not too bad. just a light fever is all.”

it’s not a complete lie. tommy does feel feverish, heat spreading across his chest as wilbur’s free hand slides down and curls loosely around tommy’s dick, before violently tugging at the length until moans begin to crawl up tommy’s sore throat.

wilbur’s smirk grows in size and smugness when tommy has to slam his hand over his mouth, pupils blown wide in shock at the sudden stimulation. tommy is fairly certain wilbur can feel the way his passage is trembling around his cock, walls tightening as tommy feels his hold on reality stutter once more.

“mmhm.” wilbur makes a soft noise of agreement, hand never stopping from where it slicks its fingertips in the precum that spills from the tip of tommy’s length. “yes, dadza, i know how to look after him. i’m not completely helpless.”

god, does wilbur know how to look after him, how to make him feel like he’s on cloud nine. tommy expects the call to end, ready to let all of his moans fill the almost silent space, but then wilbur keeps on talking. “really? i’ll make sure to grab some for him when i go downstairs-”

tommy falls into wilbur's chest and tugs at his button-up shirt, puppy eyes pleading for more attention, but wilbur just nuzzles his nose into tommy’s hair as he begins rocking his hips up into tommy’s slick hole, relishing in the tiny gasps tommy tries to keep under control.

wilbur does not stop talking, not even when tommy falls apart on his cock, muffling the boy’s cute little moans by shoving his fingers down his throat. he cums himself with a silent groan, muttering a goodbye to phil through the feeling of standing on the edge of too much, tommy clenching down around his dick as the phone tumbles out of his hand.

“we really need to get around to streaming, otherwise we’re going to get harassed on twitter,” wilbur laughs. “you’re only here for another couple of days after all, toms.” tommy doesn’t know how he’s going to survive without being dicked down every day. it must show in his pout because wilbur chuckles, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning down to peck his forehead.

“don’t worry, love. i’ll make sure to fuck you enough that you’ll feel it for weeks afterward.”


	3. dream/tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let it be known that i haven’t read harry potter in about ten years so i remember absolutely nothing about the lore. i don’t think this is how the room of requirement works, but fuck it! i’m just writing porn with a ridiculous amount of exposition, it doesn’t matter 
> 
> // harry potter au, consensual sex, blowjobs, 69-ing, minor/adult in the context of the ship itself but minor/minor in the fic

it’s common knowledge in hogwarts that while slytherin and gryffindor students dating isn’t exactly forbidden, any relationships between the houses aren’t exactly seen in a positive light.

it had started as just a friendly rivalry. said friendly rivalry had become a tad more heated when sapnap had decided to jokingly snatch tommy’s kitten, mellohi, and play around with her for a while.

them mellohi had proceeded to vanish when everyone’s backs were turned, tommy got a month’s worth of detention for breaking sapnap’s nose and karl had eventually showed up with the cat curled up in his arms, probably because of that damn time-turner of his. 

wilbur is to blame, for the most part. he’s ridiculously overprotective of his younger brother and while it may be a case of the pot calling the kettle black, at least dream’s subtle about it.

but wilbur had declared something of a war on the slytherins (as much of a war as you can get in a school full of teenagers with barely any control on their magic, at least) after the incident, mostly because fat tears had rolled down tommy’s cheeks as he cradled the cat to his chest while vehemently denying that a ‘big man’ like him could ever feel fear.

“tommy, would you mind making your brother calm down for once?” dream asks, practically pleading as he tries to focus his gaze on the blonde standing over him and not wilbur, who seems ready to pounce on dream if he makes the slightest of movements. “with the way he’s glaring, i wouldn’t put it past him to cast avada kedavra any second now.”

tommy rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest with an endearing pout on his lips that dream can’t help but smile at. “just ignore him,” he so helpfully advises, as if it’s that easy to ignore a 6ft 5” tall, slight manic wizard who would probably willingly give himself up to azkaban if it meant tommy would be forever safe. 

“i’m trying to,” dream grumbles, trying to not notice wilbur’s stare piercing directly into the side of his face. he decides to just duck fully behind tommy’s chest, looking up with confusion. “why are you over here anyway?”

“we have homework to do together, remember?” dream opens his mouth to remind tommy that they absolutely do not, since they finished their astronomy sheets last week (and tommy should definitely remember that, considering dream then fucked him so hard afterwards that they nearly got cum on the parchment), but then tommy’s eyes sharpen, screaming at him to get the underlying message.

“oh, yeah. for charms, right?” dream’s tone is flat and the opposite of convincing, but george will probably just assume he’s not that pleased about spending the next couple of hours with a very loud gryffindor. dream rises from the bench slowly, not wanting to seem too eager as he fakes a tired sigh. “since i’m not busy, i guess we can do it now. preferably very far away from wilbur, if you don’t mind.”

“how nice of you to fit me into your schedule,” tommy snarks, but there’s a pleased glint to his eyes as he turns to wave a quick goodbye to wilbur. who still looks like he wants to commit unspeakable violent acts to any slytherin in tommy’s general vicinity. how lovely. 

the boy curls his fingers around dream’s wrist, tight enough to have a steady grip but not enough to hurt, although dream doubts tommy’s got any real upper body strength. he makes half-hearted protests as he’s unceremoniously dragged through the hallways of hogwarts, until they end up in an empty corridor.

“tommy, as much as i’d like to, i’m not going to fuck you in an empty classroom. i don’t want to lose any more house points, not after what happened with potions last week. i value my life more than i value getting a blowjob.” 

dream’s advice: don’t try and speedrun making a new potion, it will blow up in your face. literally. snape nearly had his head for that, dream doesn’t want to lose his dick too. 

still, he finds himself bending down to pepper light kisses over tommy’s neck as the boy fumbles with the doorknob. for the sake of his dignity, he tries his best not to seem too needy, but he’s just as starved for touch as tommy, who eagerly presses back into his hold. living in the cold slytherin dorms without his cute boyfriend to warm him up is a nightmare. 

“you’re such a pussy,” tommy snorts, opening the door without a second thought, pulling dream into the room by his tie. dream blinks in shock at the colourful rug beneath his feet, barely noticing tommy’s arms wrapping around his neck.

it’s a spacious and yet homely room, bean bags piled in the corner, a retro tv hooked up to the wall even though devices are non-functional here until their muggle studies teacher, phil, gets his hands on them. “huh, lucky,” dream mumbles.

the room of requirement transforms to one’s needs and this looks like the perfect hideaway for a bunch of muggleborn teenagers. dream doubts this place was ever meant to be used for said teenagers to get each other off, not when it’s more likely to morph itself into the training room he and his friends use for their definitely-against-school-rules manhunts through the forbidden forest.

the door clicks shut and the next thing dream knows he’s got an arm full of an overeager tommy, blonde curls blocking his vision as their lips clash together messily. dream stumbles a little, back knocking against the door as he tries to keep up with the sloppy way tommy is licking open his mouth, one hand cradling the boy’s head in his palm and the other resting in the dip of his back.

“hey, tom-” dream tries to get a word in but tommy stays up on his tip-toes, mischievous grin in place as he keeps pressing soft kisses to dream’s mouth. he can’t help but smile as the boy moves to pecking the freckles that decorate dream’s cheeks. “damn, you’re needy today. did you really miss me that much?”

tommy snorts, as if the thought is ludicrous. “i missed your lips-” he rises up for another kiss, whimpering when dream’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, before the sting is soothed with a swipe of his tongue. “and your hands-” tommy’s fingers push down the arm wrapped around his waist until the older is loosely grabbing his ass. “not so much _you_ though.”

“i can’t believe you’re only dating me for my dick,” dream sighs, but he’s grinning as he hooks both hands behind tommy’s thighs, dragging the boy up into his arms just so he can toss him onto the couch.

squealing as he lands on his back, tommy huffs in false irritation with his cheeks puffed up. he looks so cute, like an angry little kitten, dream thinks, all long, knobbly legs and big blue eyes. he fakes being pissed off but clutches at dream’s chest in the same breath, dragging him down into a kiss that bumps their noses together.

he slides tommy’s robes out of the way and unbuttons his pants, pulling them down to his knees, exposing the soft and bruised skin of tommy’s lean thighs. there’s scrapes over his knees from quidditch practice and teeth marks from where dream would spend hours in the locker room worshipping every inch of his strangely dainty body.

“so pretty,” dream coos, not at all condescendingly, just to watch tommy flush a soft shade of red at the praise. he really is and dream can’t help but nuzzle at the bulge through his boxers, mouthing at the tip through the small, damp stain of pre-cum. tommy whimpers and dream pulls away to nose at his thighs, sucking new marks over the skin. “my pretty little boy.”

“i’m not your pretty little anything,” tommy grumbles, but he’s betrayed by how his hips twitch up in dream’s little caresses, a finger trailing up and down his cock, the contact dulled by the barrier of fabric. some times, tommy is as soft and pliable as melted ice cream, and at others he’s the brattiest little bastard in existence. dream can’t tell exactly which one he’ll see today.

dream curls his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down over his legs, his dick curving up onto his tummy. tommy may be tall, but most of him is small, from his fragile wrists to his tiny waist, and his cock is no exception to that rule. it fits easily past dream’s lips, resting in the pocket of his cheek as he suckles softly.

digging his thumbs down into the dip of tommy’s hips, dream pins the boy down, easily overpowering him (he’s syltherin’s star player for a reason, after all), till he can do nothing but tremble under the gentle movements of dream’s mouth. thin fingers slide into dream’s dirty blonde hair, tugging as he hums around the cock in his mouth.

“d-dream,” tommy whimpers, as dream bobs his head up and down slowly, nails leaving behind indents in tommy’s sensitive skin. “please, i want, i wanna-” dream lets his dick flop out of his mouth, moving his hand so he can tease the head with his palm, pre-cum slicking down his wrist. “i wanna make you feel good too.”

“baby wants to make me feel good?” dream asks, biting another mark into where tommy’s thighs meet his hips. part of him still wonders how he manages to hide these marks from his roommates, considering the bruises are pretty hard to miss. maybe he doesn’t hide them. the thought makes his dick twitch in his pants. “what do you want to do for me, sweetheart?”

“i-” tommy swallows, eyes glossy and a little bit dazed as he stares down at dream’s hand lazily fisting his cock. “i want your dick down my throat.” he seems to realise that he’s not being as bratty as usual, the flush on his face reddening and spreading to his ears. “bitch,” tommy adds a half-hearted afterthought. 

“you really need me to shut you up that badly?” dream grins, rising up off the couch and simply ignoring tommy’s look of confusion. he unzips his pants, freeing his dick from its confines, watching with amusement as tommy’s gaze fixates on his length, mouth practically salivating at the thought of having it in his mouth. 

dream curls his hands around tommy’s ankles, dragging the boy down a bit so his head rests on the seat, rather than the arm of the couch. he strides over to where tommy’s head lies, one knee resting beside his face, his other leg still firmly planted on the floor. “i doubt you’ll be able to talk, so if you need me to stop, tap my thigh, okay?”

“o-okay?” tommy says, clearly not catching on to dream’s plans, not until he swings a thigh over tommy’s head. dream can clearly hear tommy’s sharp gasp and it’s impossible to miss how his body wiggles in anticipation beneath him, the tip of his dick resting on tommy’s plush lips.

moaning, dream tries not to thrust down when he feels a soft tongue swirl around the first inch of his cock, leaning over so he can lap over tommy’s own. one hand resting on the couch to keep himself steady, the other clasped over tommy’s thigh tight enough that it will surely leave behind a handprint, dream takes tommy into his mouth.

tommy cranes his neck up and dream groans as the boy takes in inch after inch of his long cock, the length sliding so easily into his slick and wet mouth. whining, tommy is clearly impatient for more, and dream can only buck his hips as tommy rises up onto his elbows and presses his nose against the curve of his balls.

“mmph, hnnngh.” as it works into his throat, tommy gurgles around his cock, pointless noises that send vibrations across dream’s aching length. he pulls back and immediately surges up again, shoving it down his neck at a pace that will leave him sore in the hours to come. “hnnn, hnnggh, mmmng!”

if there’s one thing enjoyable about getting his dick sucked, it’s probably the fact that he can’t hear tommy calling him a wanker or whatever other weird british insult he likes to make up. tommy’s accent and the boy’s inability to take anything seriously have the combined ability to turn him from unbelievably turned on to flaccid in a matter of seconds. his accidental moments of hilarity are great as long as you’re not trying to cum in him and he decides screaming pogchamp is a good idea. 

but now dream can thrust into tommy’s fucked open throat as much as he likes, cock rock hard as tommy’s tongue slides over the underside. he’s so good for dream, taking him like nothing else in the world matters, never gagging as dream slams into his mouth, just lying there pliant and blissed out as dream wrecks his throat.

still bobbing down on his dick, dream trails his fingers down between his exposed ass cheeks, ghosting over his entrance, a fleeting touch over his perineum, as a reminder of what dream could do. he’s not going to fuck tommy now, not when he doesn’t want the boy limping for the rest of the week and not when a sore throat is much easier to find excuses for.

but he could, could sink his fingers into the boy’s tight little hole and fuck him till he’s messy with cum and lube, and it’s the promise of that which makes tommy’s noises noticeably pick up in volume. the tremor that runs through dream’s dick as the boy continues mewling is heavenly and he’s so glad that the boy has no gag reflex, because he’s lost control over his thrusts now.

the boy scratches at dream’s stomach, nails scraping over the slight sliver of skin exposed, but he never taps his thigh, never wants dream to stop, just keeps jerking his hips up into dream’s mouth, his little cock throbbing under the glide of his tongue.

dream pulls back, tommy’s cock flopping down to drool pre-cum onto the curve of his stomach and the couch beneath his hips. it takes a bit of shifting but he manages to lean over and spit directly onto tommy’s rim, rubbing the saliva across his skin before teasing the tip of one finger against his hole.

he doesn’t stop pounding in tommy’s open mouth and he thinks he physically can’t, not when tommy’s taking him so well, like he was made to be nothing but dream’s hole to fuck. dream’s hand slides up, touch fleeting against his balls and the base of his cock, before he takes tommy’s length in his hand, stroking it softly, enough to feel good but not enough to send the boy barrelling into his climax.

tommy is still making those pretty, fucked out noises and merlin, does dream wish he could see how tommy’s taking his cock, how his jaw is locked open and tears are dripping down his cheeks, how the bulge in his neck shifts with each thrust. instead, he focuses on the way tommy’s hips twitch up into the stroke of dream’s large hand, the older boy’s movements growing sloppier as he nears his own high.

dream bends down and takes tommy’s cock at the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust, shoving a finger knuckle-deep into his untouched rim, and tommy screams around his cock, release splattering over dream’s tongue. a few more thrusts into tommy’s throat and dream too comes undone, practically growling as he lifts his hips up and lets the cum paint tommy’s face and neck.

rising up off the couch, dream drops to his knees, cupping tommy’s likely aching jaw in his hands and tilting the boy’s head so he can lick over his chin. gathering the cum that landed in ropes across his cheeks and the corners of his mouth, dream dips past tommy’s lips, feeding the boy his release as they pant heavily into each others’ mouths. 

“mmm, dream,” tommy mumbles into the meeting of their lips, voice hoarse and raspy. “w-we’ve got class soon. we- we should get ready. will might kill me if i’m late.”

“since when did you care about the rules, huh?” dream asks, smirking as he leans back and casts his eyes over tommy’s shaking body. “you know what? i don’t think i’m done with you yet. fucking you is much more important.”

“bu-but-” tommy trembles as dream begins to unbutton his shirt, leaning down to lap his tongue over tommy’s pretty pink nipples. “d-detention?”

“baby, would you rather be here, getting fucked dumb on my cock, or in a history lecture, listening to a ghost drone on about shit that happened a hundred years ago?” dream asks, nipping over tommy’s soft tummy.

tommy pauses, fingers twisting into the collar of dream’s shirt. “here,” tommy mumbles, seeming a little shy now that he’s coming down from his high. “w-wanna get fucked, dream.”

“of course you do,” dream laughs. “so just lie there and look all pretty for me, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also just so anyone reading knows - i’m filling requests in order of what i get inspiration for first. if i tried to write them in order they were commented, then i feel like i’d be forcing myself to and the quality wouldn’t be very good. hope you all understand <3


	4. schlatt/tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gentle reminder that i'm only writing fics that focus on tommy with him being the bottom (for coping reasons Haha), so unfortunately i cannot fill any requests asking for him to top. hope you guys understand :)
> 
> // minor/adult, sexual extortion (tommy has to fuck schlatt in order to stay in manberg - i'm assuming this is considered dub-con?), outdoor sex, blowjobs, minor tubbo/tommy, threesome, spitroasting, cock warming, cross-dressing, some small references to past physical abuse (regarding wilbur -> tommy)

“i’ll let you back into manberg.”

tommy takes one look at schlatt’s expression and doesn’t believe a single word that comes out of his mouth. he’s not quite sure how he ended up here. tubbo had whispered hours ago for him to go to the forest that surrounds the entrance to pogtopia and tommy had simply assumed that the boy just had more information to give, not that the president who fucking exiled him would be waiting here. 

schlatt’s handsome, tommy has to admit, but most of that charm is hidden behind a sleazy smile and greedy eyes. when tommy was naive, young and dumb, he’d held something of an idol worship for the man. but war after war has made him see without rose-coloured glasses and he’s nothing but avarice incarnate. 

“so, what’s the catch?” tommy asks, suspicious of the possible ulterior motives the man could have. schlatt is unpredictable, but tommy has never pegged him as someone who will dive into a risky situation without some kind of plan. “i know you want something in return, dickhead. just spit it out already.”

“of course i’d never do anything for free. it’s just under one small condition.” schlatt prowls forward, a predator-like glint in his eyes as he nears tommy’s shivering form. the cold is seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt and there’s another kind of chill running down his spine. “you’ll be mine.”

it suddenly as if everything around tommy freezes. the wind stills, the world grows quiet, and all tommy can do is stare, dumbfounded, at schlatt’s always present, shit-eating grin. “i’m sorry, what?” tommy blurts out, staring up at schlatt in shock as he waits for the man to suddenly say the punchline. “are you implying what i think you are?”

“i think you know exactly what i want.” this is a joke, it has to be a joke, but schlatt seems deadly serious. even with the amusement clear over his rugged features, there’s an undertone of power in his voice, a genuinity which feels so strange given the circumstances. “i want you. maybe not for the most pg-rated reasons, admittedly.”

“you’re crazy,” tommy mutters, eyes unable to rip away from schlatt’s general direction. he manages to shift his gaze up a bit, just to the curve of his horns, but his presence is overwhelming as he stands chest-to-chest with the man. “is everyone on this server fucking crazy?” 

“probably,” schlatt comments wryly. “but cmon, take a look at yourself, kid.” schlatt pinches his chin and tilts his head from side to side, surveying the scrapes that litter his cheeks. “what the fuck is lover boy even doing to you in- what was it? pogtopia?” schlatt scoffs and it takes all of tommy’s self-control to not bat his hand away.

tommy glares, but there’s no real heat behind it, just a petulance as he tries to ignore the inevitable: that he’ll cave in and say yes. his loyalty to wilbur depleted after he got hit with the man’s unending ire for what felt like the hundredth time. “what do i even get out of this? do you think i want to be your own fucking sex slave?”

“not really, no.” at least schlatt’s not blind, tommy thinks. not as ignorant to reality as wilbur happens to be. it’s not really that reassuring. it’s hard to beat how far gone the former president is. “but i know you want freedom from that little terrorist organisation of yours and this is the only way you’re going to get it.”

“so what are the conditions then?” tommy swallows, pretending that he’s perfectly calm and not overly freaking out on the inside. schlatt grins, digging into the pocket of his suit jacket, and when tommy sees a dog collar, he can feel his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. “you can’t be serious.”

“oh, i’m absolutely serious.” the collar slides around the curve of his neck, schlatt’s rough fingers brushing over tommy’s skin, the touch making him shiver. the minute it’s locked around his neck, schlatt pats his cheek condescendingly and god, tommy just wants to fucking bite the bastard’s hand.

“you’ve always got to keep this on. we don’t want anyone else to get their hands on you now, do we?” schlatt fiddles with the buckle, cold metal tingling tommy’s throat. “i wanted to get a dog tag for you. property of schlatt, and all that. quackity told me is was going too far and i figured i wouldn’t want to scare you off just yet.”

tommy stares at him as if he’s cracked but schlatt never stops grinning, hands sliding over his shoulders to clutch around his arms, stopping him from fleeing. “you’ll be mine, in every sense of the word that entails. you’ll also be my pet, to use however i like. of course, you’ll be allowed to leave the white house once an initial supervision period is over, but you’ll forever belong to me.”

schlatt noses down over tommy’s cheek. his breath is tinted with the alcohol and tommy wonders if this was at all a sober decision of his. probably not, given that schlatt never seems all that sober to begin with. does tommy really want to sign away his everything to this man, just to get away from _him?_

“you know, i’m not sure if you’re worth keeping around,” schlatt comments, pulling back so his stare can travel all the way from the top of tommy’s head to the tip of his toes. “it’s only fair i get a trial of your services, isn’t it?”

tommy could do two things: run back to the ravine, where wilbur will probably somehow already know everything that happened this night. he’ll be dead meat, either stuck on the end of technoblade’s sword or locked away until he ‘learns his lesson’. or he could stay, because even if he is losing his dignity, if he plays his cards right and proves his worth even as just something used to get schlatt off, at least he’ll live with a sliver of freedom.

and so he drops to his knees. “you’re eager,” schlatt comments casually as he undoes the button to his pants, sliding down the zipper with little trouble. “has no one given you a fill for a while? going off the way that leader of yours has been acting, i thought he would have sank low enough to use your mouth for something other than talking by now.”

“i’m eager to get this over with,” tommy snarks. it’s partially the truth, but partially not. if he takes a while, surely someone from pogtopia will come looking for him and he’d rather techno didn’t find him on his knees for the president. but the thought of going to manberg terrifies him and even though time will not soothe him, it will at least delay the inevitable. “and i wouldn’t be looking down on wilbur for fucking a teenager, considering the position we’re currently in.”

“oh, darling, at least i’m honest about who i am,” schlatt grins. “wilbur’s a liar, mostly to himself. he could blow this place up sky high and still think that he’s got a moral high ground to stand on. what he fails to realise is that we are the exact same. i’m not a good person, but unlike him, i’m not going to pretend to be.”

schlatt drags his cock out from his boxers and tommy can’t help but stare a little at it, eyes blown in shock. it’s thick, very thick, and long too, enough that tommy can imagine it nudging down his throat. a pleased flush settles over his face, because hey, he might hate schlatt just a tad but a nice dick is a nice dick.

schlatt wraps a hand around the base, fisting his free fingers in tommy’s hair, and pushes it past the seam of tommy’s lips without a single sign of care about whether or not tommy will even be able to take it. tommy’s jaw aches as his mouth stretches wide open, but he lets his tongue slide over the underside with little complaint, digging his nails into arms to keep himself grounded.

“god, you’re taking me so well,” schlatt growls as the tip bumps against the back of tommy’s mouth, a muffled moan escaping the boy’s lips before the ram pulls all the way out. his dick, slick with salvia, a string of spit connecting it to tommy’s tongue, rests in the air between them as tommy pants. “you’re going to be the perfect toy, i just know it.”

tommy whines when the cock is pushed back in without warning, teeth scraping over the length. but schlatt doesn’t give up, doesn’t stop, and with each thrust down his throat, tommy’s knees slide further and further apart until his legs are splayed beside him, arms dangling uselessly by his side. tommy’s head slams back against the tree trunk as he used as nothing but mindless sleeve for schlatt’s cock.

the man hisses, growls, grunts, a series of harsh noises that fills tommy’s ears and echoes through the trees, hopefully still quiet enough that it will not wake up anyone nearby. tommy is surprised when he’s ripped off the length, one hand curled around his jaw and the other jacking off right in front of him.

 _i want him to paint me with his cum,_ tommy thinks, before his mind catches up with him and he flushes a bright shade of red. is he really this easy that just a little taste has him desperate for more? tommy tells himself he’s not but he keeps his tongue out-stretched, humming happily when schlatt’s cum begins to splatter over his chin.

“good boy,” schlatt murmurs between heavy breaths, patting tommy on the head gently. it's the bare minimum amount of praise, but tommy, touch-starved after being stuck in a cave with two emotionally-stunted terrorists, finds himself sinking into it.

this might not be so bad, right?

-

it’s hard to feel anything other than exposed when the man you owe your current living situation to shoves you into one of his slightly-too-big shirts.

the button-up, white dress shirt hangs over tommy’s frame. it is the right length give or take, considering the little height difference between the two, but much larger around the chest and shoulders, draping tommy in excess material that highlights the slender curve of his bones.

“is this really necessary?” tommy asks, bent over the presidential desk in a position that is far too indecent to be doing in public. unfortunately, he’s also in the position where he can’t deny schlatt’s more risqué demands and so he can do nothing but whine as the man kneads his ass cheeks. “don’t you have… i don’t know, important president shit to be doing?”

“what could be more important than fucking my pretty little pet?” schlatt coos. _i don’t know, fixing your shitty fucking country?_ tommy wants to throw back at him, but all he can do is whine when schlatt presses the bottle of lube to his hole and squeezes, cold liquid spilling over his skin.

it’s not really needed for tommy to be prepared like this all over again. schlatt’s an insatiable bastard and in the two weeks he’s been back in manberg, tommy has been fucked more times than he could possibly ever count. tommy is pretty certain he can still feel some cum sloshing around inside of him from when schlatt made him bounce on his cock just after he’d woken up, the prick.

two thick fingers rub over his rim, schlatt pressing down until the walls weaken and allow him to push in, the stretch nice and comfortable even as tommy’s legs and lower back ache. if there’s one thing tommy has learnt in his time as a president’s plaything, it’s that he might be a little addicted to getting fucked, not that schlatt would ever consider that a bad thing.

schlatt’s careful with his thrusts, forcing his fingers in deep but purposefully avoiding tommy’s swollen prostate, sensitive from all the pounding it has been subjected to. tommy is too busy rolling his hips back into the man’s fingers, sniffling as he’s denied any real sensation, to register that there’s a knock at the door until it clicks open.

“tubbo, my right hand man! just the person i wanted to see.” tommy freezes at schlatt’s words, stare fixated on where his fingers are curled over the edge of the deck, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip as he realises that schlatt’s two fingers deep into his ass and tubbo is right fucking there.

“um, i- i needed to get your opinion on some new bills? but, uh, i can come back later, since you’re-“ tubbo’s hands flail, papers crinkling, eyes never straying from tommy’s flushed and fucked out face. tommy can’t meet his gaze, just keeps staring down at the floor as he wishes to be far, far away from this mess. “preoccupied?”

“my eyes are up here, tubbo,’ schlatt points out gleefully, outright cackling when the boy stutters out an apology but doesn’t even bother to drag his stare away from the peek of tommy’s back and the curve of his ass that is visible from where he stands. “i’m a very possessive man, tubbo. you know that already.”

“uh, sir, i don’t-“ tubbo stumbles over his words, taking a few steps back and looking as if he’s torn between the urge to get out of the room as quickly as possible or put his hands on tommy himself.

“and you know i don’t like my belongings to be touched by anyone but myself.” schlatt continues as if nothing is wrong with this situation, rubbing a thumb over tommy’s trembling hips as the boy’s hole twitches around his fingers. “but you’ve been doing such a good job lately that i figured a reward was in order.”

“a… reward?” tubbo asks, clearly not getting why schlatt even allowed him in the room in the first place. he’s always been a bit slow on the uptake, tommy thinks fondly, until it hits the blonde that schlatt is literally offering him up as said reward and his brain shuts down.

schlatt nods down at tommy and tubbo’s expression morphs into one of realisation. tommy doesn’t have the courage to look up but tubbo is clearly a little more confident, crouching down so his soft eyes can meet tommy’s teary eyes, fingers reaching up to rub over the curve of tommy’s cheek.

tubbo’s stubby thumb rubs over tommy’s bottom lip and his mouth falls open into a particularly wanton moan when schlatt rubs over his prostate with the pads of his fingers. tubbo’s fond, affectionate, gentle gaze morphs into something a little darker at the noise. “tommy, is this okay?” he asks and all tommy can do is nod pitifully, sniffling as tubbo stands once more and tugs his zipper down.

this is so humiliating, tommy realises, embarrassed tears burning at the corners of eyes. tubbo’s cock nudges at his mouth at the same time schlatt slides in deep, rim struggling to fit around the base of his dick as tommy clenches down tightly at the rush of sensations. careful fingers lock into his curls, head held in place as tubbo’s dick pushes in and knocks against the opening to his throat

he’s stretched out on both ends, his best friend patting a hand through his hair as schlatt’s cock settles deep into his guts, moans ignored as if he’s not even there as they discuss plans for manberg’s future. tommy just lies there, impaled on two different cocks, drool slipping out the corners of his mouth and pre-cum making a puddle on the once pristine carpet.

 _this shouldn’t feel this good,_ tommy tells himself, over and over again, a mantra in his head as he squirms, desperately trying not to push his hips back or bob his head down. _so why does it?_

-

“what do you think?” schlatt mumbles sleepily. there’s dark circles beneath his usually attentive eyes and his arm hangs limp around tommy’s waist. he sat tommy on his cock what feels like hours ago now, needing the grip around his dick to keep him grounded, and he’s still half-hard but clearly in need of some actual rest.

“you need to lower taxes a bit,” tommy mumbles, tensing up when he expects - something. anything. a hand around his neck, or a slap to the face, just like wilbur would do when tommy disobeyed. but schlatt doesn’t, just buries his face into tommy’s shoulder, stubble scratching his skin as the ram hums for him to continue. 

“a big issue with manberg is loyalty.” tommy hesitantly says, playing with schlatt’s fingers to take his mind off the intrusive feelings of insecurity and fear that have played on his mind since he stepped foot in that ravine for the first time. “pogtopia isn’t exactly run well, but wilbur’s not trying to steal their entire income. even if he’s going off about blowing up l’manburg or whatever, he’s not pissing them off with constant taxes.”

“i get that you want absolute control but-“ tommy wiggles nervously, accidentally pressing schlatt’s dick further inside. the jolts of pleasure clash with the constant thoughts - _it’s not worth it. it will only end in disaster._ “you’re never going to get it. you’re just gonna end up dead somewhere and i-“ tommy cuts himself off. _i don’t want you to die. i don’t want to lose you._

schlatt might be a wannabe dictator whose lips taste too much like whiskey, but tommy’s in too deep now to let the man ruin himself and this nation. he breathes a heavy sigh of relief when schlatt nods, dragging himself off tommy’s shoulder with a yawn. “i hate to admit, kid, but i think you’re right,” he mumbles, dropping a kiss on tommy’s temple. “god, you’ve made me soft. it’s horrible.”

tommy turns in schlatt’s hold, loosely swinging his arm around the other’s neck and breathing in the scent of his cologne that lingers there. “thank you. for listening.” tommy mutters, pretending that hiding away his face will somehow keep schlatt from hearing the tremor in his voice. the _he never did_ goes unspoken, but rests heavily in the air between them, only broken by schlatt’s next words.

“you need a distraction, obviously, and i think i’ve done enough work for today. time for a little fun, isn’t it, darling?”

“wait, no, not on the paperwork! no, don’t you dare- _hngh!_ sc-schlatt!”

-

“do i really have to wear this?” tommy groans and even if schlatt can’t see him, he can already imagine the pout of childish frustration on the boy’s face. “i look like a fucking idiot, i hope you know that.”

“as manberg’s first lady, you need to be a role model for the people, and so you need to be wearing something a little more presentable than that one red-and-white shirt,” schlatt tells him, an easy-going smile on his lips as he listens to the boy grumble. “also, i thought it would be hot.”

“i hate you, i hate you so fucking much-“ tommy rants and schlatt can hear him fumbling behind the curtain, evidently struggling to zip up the back of the dress. schlatt doesn’t really want to offer him assistance, though, not when the boy’s in enough of a pissed off state to get stabby.

“i thought tommy’s official title was the president’s fuck toy or something,” quackity stage-whispers in the background but he tapers off into an _ow!_ when tubbo slaps him on the arm, tommy squawking in indignation from behind the curtains. 

“what the fuck did you just say about me, you bitch-“ tommy starts ranting, ripping open the curtains with his usual display of childish fury, ready to tear quackity to pieces with a copious amount of swear words and rather inventive insults, but then he’s forced to pause. “uh, why are you all looking at me like that?”

tommy’s dress is modest in a manner that offsets his colourful language, with long sleeves that drape over his fingers and a skirt that falls to his thin knees. but it clings in all the right places, showing off the tiny dip that is his waist and the long legs that schlatt is much more used to seeing bare and wrapped around his hips than swathed in blue silk.

tubbo takes one look at him and schlatt must have some pretty prominent bedroom eyes, eyes greedily trailing over tommy’s figure, because he sighs and grabs quackity by the arm and drags him outside. the door slams shut behind him, but just seconds later it clicks back open a little more calmly and tubbo points a finger directly at schlatt, a disapproving quality to his voice. 

“we’ve only got two hours till the festival, so you better be quick.” tubbo warns him. “and nothing too rough, we want tommy to be able to actually walk this time.”

“no promises,” schlatt smirks, ignoring tubbo’s judgmental gaze as the door shuts. he turns his attention back to the boy standing in front of him, fingers twisted nervously into the fabric resting around his thighs. his blue eyes are wide in genuine confusion until schlatt steps forward and connects their lips in an open-mouthed kiss, a moan crawling up the boy’s throat.

“you look so damn pretty,” schlatt whispers when they seperate, fervent in his praise. he skims his fingertips over the silk entrapping tommy’s small waist, before pressing his hands against the curve of tommy’s back, pulling him tightly against his body so his growing bulge presses directly against the boy’s stomach, forcing a gasp out of tommy’s mouth.

“you’re so insatiable,” tommy whispers, fidgeting in his grasp, pink beginning to colour his cheeks. but he doesn’t pull away, wrapping his arms around schlatt’s broad shoulders as the ram litters kisses down his neck, nipping little bites into the pale skin with his fangs, content moans slipping from his lips. “you’re lucky i’m kind of into that.”

“of course i’m lucky. lucky enough that i’m sure tubbo won’t notice if we’re just a little bit late.”

“what are you talking about- why are you taking off your tie? oh, you are not tying me up, big man, i swear to prime-”

very lucky indeed.


End file.
